1000 Words for Snow
Living somewhere where the weather is constantly scorching, where it feels like the heat may light the leaves upon the trees ablaze, ive grown to love colder weather. The brisk wind and soft snow beneath my feet. Like walking on a glass bottom road atop a cloud. Icicles hanging from gutters and rooftops, chimneys alight from the fires inside. Families huddled around fireplaces, watching movies, eating dinner, enjoying one another. Like a scene of gingerbread houses, they run in a row down the cities frozen street. A perfect suburb like youd see in movies.
The river runs through the city, underneath bridges and around bends. Ice flowing down it, breaking from the shore and churning by the grinding rocks. Reeds along the waterside popping through, spurts of grass emerging through the snow. Like a frozen wonderland youd see shaken in a snowglobe.
Pine trees line the road, alongside a cliff of snow towering up the mountains front. The asphalt curves throughout the mountainside, winding through its passes. Through caves, and over hilltops, to the snowcapped peak with an outlook on everywhere and everything.
I feel so obscure looking in as an outsider. Staring into the heart of a town I’ve never visited, nor will probably ever return. Watching the shops and city buildings fly by as I watch them through the cars window as we drive by. People walking along sidewalks, gleefully chatting about their lives with friends and family. Sitting on patios munching on local foods. Its funny though, seeing them in shorts and t shirts as I sit bundled in jackets to stay warm.
I’ve always loved these snowy towns. Yet they always felt so surreal. I would never understand how it was to live there. And I was thankful. This way the magic would never be lost. They do say ignorance is bliss.
Just months ago, yet feels like its been ages. I remember it so well, driving through that blizzard. Telling the city goodbye. The flurries fly by the windshield as I push on through the storm. The wind picks up, but we have no where to go but on through to the south. It keeps falling and falling, the plow ahead of us barely able to keep up. The car is a mess from our trip, we hadn’t planned in cleaning it thoroughly until we made it back home.
Watching the storm descend upon us, from the dark clouds that surround the valley, I cant help but find myself engulfed in thought. It’s been a long week, and a draining one at that. It was supposed to be a vacation, a break from life and the hellfire that it entails. And that it was, but my mind was a blur through out. It felt off, everything askew. After living for so long feeling empty it was weird to be so happy.
They say the Inuit people have 1000 words for “snow”. One for each kind there is, based on texture, season and more. Messaging her I think about that a lot to be honest. Or anyone I really care about tbh. Theres so many things I could say. So many things that mean so many things and could lead to so many things in the future. I could just pick one that’s close enough, but for her I want it to be perfect. Because I want to be genuine. I want to be true.
Sometimes I just think about that day. How long it took me to get the guts to ask her. A worried mess, the color of my cheeks glowing against the white of the snow. Each word I wrote taking ages as I chose through infinity looking for that perfect one.
Looking through 1000 words. Looking for the perfect ones to let you know I love you.
That I always will. And wanna be there for you.